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Edgar Allen Poe and Doom...

Doom And Edgar Allen Poe? One of the questions on the Doom2 pop quiz thread asked what connection there was between Edgar Allen Poe and Doom. Thinking about that got me all inspired and creative, so I sat down and rewrote "The raven" to give it a more "Doomy" feel. And this is the result. My apologies to Mr Poe. And to Homer Simpson.

Revised 07/2010

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
From those savage battles bleary, covered in a bloody gore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my red key door.
'A former human, now restored, tapping at my red key door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember; human bodies, now dismembered
As each dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly had I sought to borrow
From my guns an end to sorrow - sorrow for this bloody war -
For the UAC, that corporate whore, who had brought such demons to my door,
Nameless here forevermore.

My blue armor, I am certain, covered me like some hardened curtain
Onward now, to do some hurtin', bloodied art that I had yet to draw
So that now to still the beating, of my heart I moved; repeating,
' 'Tis some rescue team entreating entrance at this Hangar door -
Brave marines yet seeking entrance at my red key door; -
This it is, and nothing more.'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'Damn,' said I, perception stronger, life no longer here the only law;
But these demons I was trapping, this strange complex automapping,
And so faintly they came tapping, tapping at my red key door,
I scarce was sure I heard them - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Could this silence yet be hearing my very heart; a fatal flaw
But the darkness gave no token; still the only sounds there spoken
Hellish hunger; twisted, broken, these broods of demon spoor
At last they spoke from depths obscure, ' 'Tis one marine, his blood shall pour;
A mere human and nothing more.'

Back into the Hangar turning, revving chainsaw blurred and churning,
Soon again I heard a burning somewhat louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely; that is something at my red key door;
Let me see, what monsters there; this mystery deplore -
Let my heart be still a moment; these hellspawn'd halls explore; -
With my glinting weapons; tools to even up the score!'

Now my chaingun starts and stutters; blood awash o'er marble'd gutters,
A raving pinky, here I shuddered; such muscles, teeth I'd not ignore.
Not the least delay made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
Yellow eyes, dark and shady, charged on through my Hangar door -
Savage and huge, chaingun rouge, just inside my red key door -
- T'was soon a thump, then nothing more.

Yet another demon dying, this bloodied face smeared, smiling
Then lost souls, flaming, flying; unearthly killers I was sure
By the bitmapped light, a vengeance vast and huge, I swore
Filthy and alone, unshaven; carving out a savage haven
Impossible that I be craven, lost upon this hellish shore -
'Death' I whispered, and for sure, knew that I was not secure;
Quoth the Demons, 'Yours forevermore.'

Humans, sergeants, their last breath, cursed me with their awful theft
'Demons!' said I, 'unto thee death! - a sudden silence mocked my bitter roar;
Desolate yet still undaunted, Cacodemons, El'mental's flaunted -
In these hell's, by horror haunted - tell me truly, lest I ignore -
'Is there - is there a megasphere beyond this door? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the Demons, 'Nevermore.'

Much I marveled as I saw, many imps come to claw,
Now all halted, lightly salted, this resulting from my shotgun's double bore;
For I cannot help but see that no living human's be
Blessed with better aim, though 'cross that red key door they came -
Blood and guts a-scattered, 'cross doortrak frames they splattered,
Ugly things in mounds lay shattered, these dead have no esprit d'corps
Nothing moved, I clearly saw, sweat dripping from my every pore.

But now a flayed 'vile, standing lonely, on the floor, spoke only,
That one growl unhomely, as if his soul in one word outpoured.
Nothing further then he uttered - the startan room now cluttered -
With demons yet living, I muttered, 'I have killed all these before' -
Pursued by yellowed flames that draw, my life away, I roar,
'Die foul Arch vile, die, upon this bloody floor.'

Startled at the stillness that still follows its ugly death,
A grim foreboding; more will come, drawn in by its last breath,
Killed by some deadly marine whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his guns were smoking more -
'Til the weapons of his hope, that terrible burden bore
Crying once again, 'Never. Never - Nevermore.'

But the demons still beguiling my very soul, defiling,
Straight-aimed rockets flying, on through that red key door;
Medikit, stimpack, soulsphere collected, but so many fiends detected
Tenements, Courtyards, Citadels affected; this I surely saw
Through them all I grimly swore, my weapons crushing hell's cruel maw
Whatever must be done this day to even up the score.

My thoughts confused, engaged in guessing, no syllable a hope expressing
Such terror deeply pressing; from those fiery eyes that burned my very core;
This and more I stood divining, it limped towards me, rockets whining
My plasma gunsights brutal lining, blue streams of death to it assigning,
It would not die, at last resigning, my battered soul unto its jaws
Peace at last, from endless war!

Then, methought, my guns reloaded, a cloud of blood, the thing exploded
This Tower of Babel now eroded, hurled backwards 'pon that cursed floor.
'Death,' I cried, 'my God hath lent me - by these rockets he hath sent thee
Back to awful hells from which thee came before -
An end to this, with hope and awe, I stepped now through some portal door
Saved only by the armor that I wore.

'At last!' said I, 'A place called Dis! What manner of green marble this?' -
As I strode forward, my guns I kiss, this brain on legs, too big to miss
Maybe for such a time as this had I once joined the Corps?
Huge legs a-rattling, vast brain a-battling - the hiss of Gatling
Did pin me to those marble floors, and as I reached for ammo stores
and splattered it 'cross marble halls
Did I but quoth, 'My world, not yours.'

'Be that word our sign of parting, Mastermind!' I shrieked, upstarting
A portal opened, through it darting; there was peace, I could be sure!
And here I was, despite my hoping, with bloodied death my life still scoping
and a part of me yet groping, for demons to kill, and more!
I had all three keys, and three colored skulls,
So that no further doors, or horrors deplored.
Would hinder my progress, this blood encore.

And at the last the Icon of Sin, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting;
Dead and decayed, a fate most fitting; just outside this red key door,
And though it once schemed, and of victory dreamed,
It proved insufficient, so it would seem; t'was I who won the war;
A hideous visage corrupting no more, Romero's head reduced to decor
Doom 1, Doom 2, Doom 3, Doom 4 await beyond this red key door...
Again I say, 'Forevermore!' "


Enjoy.

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Who's this Edgar Allen Poe, the son of Woody Allen and some chick surnamed Poe?

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myk said:

Who's this Edgar Allen Poe, the son of Woody Allen and some chick surnamed Poe?


Errrrrm. Close enough.

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Edgar Allan Poe is a famous English writer that lived around the 19th century, in the Romantic Age.

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More or less (since he was American), so I wondered who this Edgar Allen Poe would be.

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Yes, let's ignore a poem and criticize spelling, why don't we.


I'm impressed, Kyka. Very good stuff. At least, it's better than any poem I could write, and that just so happens to be my definition of "very good stuff."

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Creaphis said:
Yes, let's ignore a poem and criticize spelling, why don't we.

And there was I, thinking it was all a humorously suitable riddle to play on the guys.

In any case, I was waiting for our literary expert, Creaphis, to state his informed opinion on the masterpiece before emitting my mundane opinions, that would evidently be of no import.

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:|

okay I'll be quiet

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Thanks Creaphis. :)

esselfortium said:

Edgar Alien Poe


Heh. Nice touch.

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Excellent rewrite of Poe's classic--you managed to keep the feel of the original while successfully incorporating all sorts of DOOM-ly goodness into it.

Wouldn't it be cool if you had a time machine, went back in time, and switched your version out for Poe's? Then everybody'd be hailing Poe as the Nostradamus of video games and be scouring all of his works for other game references. :D

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*Bump*


Coz every doomer should expand their sense of culture....

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I think I like this better than the original... This should be viral on youtube, like a video playing, with someone syaing through this poem in the background. EPIC!

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